Eight Legged Houseman
by jemb
Summary: [The Streaking Series  Part Two] When Brennan goes over to Booth's place, she comes close to sharing a secret, but...instead, Booth is the one to reveal a new side of himself.


**_A/N: Niah and I had started work on this story a while back and now that we both seem to be over our writers block we decided to get it finished and posted for you all to read and hopefully laugh at. Niah would write some comments here too but she's a bit busy mastering the art of creating user icons (she's amazing at it btw) so I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Not that I have much to say but enjoy the story and drop us a review to let us know what you thought. jemb_**

For the twentieth time in half an hour Brennan picked up her phone and dialled Booth's number. And just like all those previous times he didn't answer. She rolled her eyes and hung up when she was directed to his voicemail – if he hadn't gotten her three previous messages there was little point in leaving another. Mumbling under her breath why on earth Booth had a cell phone if he didn't use it, Brennan collected the files that needed to be looked over with him. If he didn't answer his calls, then she had no choice but to go to him. A furtive glance at her watch told her she'd have to drive over to his place since it was already past office hours.

As she got up, she brushed her sweeping fringe created by her low ponytail out of her eyes. After she had pulled on her jacket over her emerald green dress, Brennan grabbed the files she had previously collected and headed out of her office, her boots making a distinctive clunk on the floor as she walked. On her way out she waved at Angela, motioning that she was calling it a night. In the parking garage a few minutes later, she had thrown her jacket and files onto the passenger seat and had just fastened her seatbelt, when she turned the ignition key. A series of suspicious spluttering sounds came in return. Brennan rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated growl. Her car couldn't die on her, not now anyway! Not when she was about to drive over to Booth to get his signature. It took her five more tries to get her car to start. Five tries that each aggravated Brennan further.

All the way to Booth's place, Brennan felt that aggravation stir in her stomach. Besides her car playing tricks on her, traffic wasn't co-operating either. It was unusually dense for some unknown reason. And then Booth went and left the office, just like that. Brennan huffed. Booth almost never went home before six. He sometimes accused her of being a workaholic, but he was no different in the end. One of the few times she actually wanted him to come and bother her at the lab at the end of the day, he decided not to show. He didn't even pick up his phone! Her lips curled in a slightly sadistic smile when she imagined how she'd tease him with his technophobia that apparently even covered cell phones besides computers and Internet, at least when it concerned online dating.

Brennan was irritated and in a mood for some serious snapping by the time she pulled up at his house. Thanks to Booth's absence at the lab, she had been forced to defy her car's deficiencies and had had to work her way through two serious traffic jams. She fully intended on not letting Booth get off the hook so easily. If she had to suffer, he'd suffer too! When she rapped her knuckles on his door, she was already imagining how she'd huff and how much grief she'd give him as soon as he opened up. But to her surprise she was left simmering in her own frustration when her knocking remained unanswered. After she had knocked three more times, and even had rung the doorbell twice, she decided to try the doorknob. Brennan shook her head when the front door swung open effortlessly. Booth regularly nagged her ears off about locking her door and checking the peephole when someone rang the doorbell, but he left his own door unlocked. _Hypocrite,_ Brennan scoffed.

"Booth, why the hell is your do-"

All words died on her lips when she laid eyes on the uncommon but highly entertaining sight before her. Booth---clad in a pair of old track pants and a green well-fitting well-worn T-shirt---was sliding, bumping, and shaking across his living room to the beat of MC Hammer's _Can't Touch This_. If the hilarious choice of song wouldn't have done her in, the light pink apron and large fluff duster he was sporting would have. For the briefest moments Brennan was too stunned to say anything---to blink even.

Booth ran the fluff duster over his bookcase and then over his coffee table. When the bridge part of the song---also known as the "ho-part"---burst through the speakers, he stuck the fluff duster in the air and sang along. Nodding his head along to the beat, he took a couple of old newspapers off the table and put them in a carton box. He was about to join MC Hammer for the chorus when he finally spotted Brennan, who was by now doing her very best not to burst out in an uncharacteristic fit of laughter, standing a bit further along. First freezing up and then clearing his throat, embarrassed to no end, Booth shuffled around trying to hide the bright pink fluff duster and his yellow rubber gloves as much as he could behind his back. Unfortunately he didn't realize that by doing so, he left another embarrassing thing in the open.

Upon laying eyes on his apron, Brennan couldn't keep her laughter in anymore. Her waving the files she had brought with her in his direction made Booth lower his gaze to see what was so funny. His eyebrows shot up and he mumbled a curse as he discovered the source for Brennan's sudden bark of laughter. Booth turned his gaze upwards, silently praying for this awkward moment to end, as he waited until he could only hear MC Hammer instead of his partner making fun of his attire.

"You know," Brennan chuckled, eventually calming down. "The song's right. I'm not sure I want to touch that." She gestured at his apron again.

"It's '_can't_ touch this'. Not 'don't _want_ to touch this', Bones."

"Whatever, Booth." Brennan held up her hands in surrender. "You're the cleaning lady…I mean, man…here." Booth shot her a pointed stare as he lifted the box with discarded newspapers. "You really missed your calling. You should've become a stand up comedian."

"If it's any comfort, I got my lamest jokes from you." Booth shook his head in response. "You're a hypocrite, Booth. Did you know that? You left your front door unlocked."

He let out an irritated sigh as he approached her, still holding the box. "Of course I left my door unlocked. How else am I supposed to get this box outside? Anyway, any specific reason why you're here at eight in the evening making fun of my choice of clothes and throwing big words at my head?" When she briefly waved her files in the air, he nodded in understanding. "Case files. I should've known. I'll be with you in a second. Just let me toss these old newspapers in the trash can outside."

"While you're there, lose the apron too."

"Hey hey," he reprimanded her. "No badmouthing the apron."

Brennan quirked an eyebrow. "I hope you're not expecting me to do as that thing says?"

"Only if you want to," Booth grinned before proudly walking out of the door in his pink "Kiss the cleaner" apron.

When Booth returned a few minutes later, he had removed the pink apron and was clasping it in his still gloved hand. Brennan was waiting in the living room, looking around at the partially cleaned room as she stood awkwardly by the couch.

"That's an interesting T-shirt you have." She commented as she was able to see the logo for the first time.

"This." Booth tossed the apron on the couch. "Is my fraternity shirt."

"Your fraternity shirt?"

"Yeah Bones. You went to college too. Don't tell me you don't know about fraternities." He crossed the remainder of the room and stood before Brennan whilst removing his rubber gloves; the last trace of his housewife ensemble.

"Of course I do. I was simply astounded that you can still wear that shirt after all these years." Brennan reached out and tugged on the torn sleeve gently, ignoring the fluttering feeling she felt in her stomach when she brushed his bicep.

"Hey, it may have a few rips and tears but its still good." Booth smoothed down the front of the shirt, almost protectively. After pulling off his yellow rubber gloves and depositing them beside the apron, he flopped down onto the couch and stretched an arm across the back. Brennan quickly joined him, crossing her legs and twisting sideways to look at Booth and his paint splattered, torn and faded T-shirt.

"Delta Lambda Phi?" Brennan asked as she studied the fraternity logo. Booth nodded to confirm. Brennan frowned while she searched her mind for what Booth's fraternity stood for. It seemed very familiar to her but there were a number of fraternity chapters at her College and she hadn't paid too much attention to them. Then a sudden smile lit up her face.

"Are you saying you were part of Delt Lambda Phi, the fraternity for gay-"

"Yeah," he interrupted her. "I know." Brennan's smile widened.

"Seriously Booth, were you part of the gay and enlightened men fraternity?"

"I was not part of it! Well not really. I didn't apply if that's what you're implying here. They tried to enlist me."

"They tried to enlist you?" Brennan echoed. "Why?" She cocked her head to the side. "A gay fraternity tried to make you a member. Should I consider that a sign, Booth?"

In response he sat up straight, squared his shoulders and leaned towards her carefully, with a slightly dangerous glint in his eyes. "Are you saying I'm not manly enough?"

Arching an eyebrow, Brennan crossed her arms. "Not right now you aren't." To mark her words she nodded at the apron and rubber gloves sitting on the arm of the couch just a few feet from the discarded feather duster he had been holding when she walked in on him. Booth halted when his face was mere inches away from hers. With narrowed eyes he stared at her as he said in a low voice. "They tried to enlist me, but they saw their error as soon as I proved I was a straight, hot-blooded guy, who didn't feel the slightest urge to hop around in a tutu. I did become an honoury brother because there were some good guys who were fun to hang out with though." He added with a cheeky smile.

"Hmm." Brennan hummed disbelievingly.

"Do you want me to prove you I'm a man, Bones? Hm?" Instead of backing away, Brennan inched closer. "Bring it on. I'd love to see you prove yourself." Booth's hand reached out towards Brennan's face, its intended target the soft milky skin of her cheek. But as he leaned in closer, a swift movement caught in the corner of his eye made him jump back.

"Ohmygod." Booth gasped quickly as he jumped up onto the couch and began frantically looking around the room.

"What's wrong?" Brennan asked, her own eyes searching for the cause of Booth's sudden distress.

"Right there. Right there by the fireplace." Booth pointed and Brennan followed his direction until she laid eyes on the culprit. Sitting on the floor by the edge of the fireplace was large, hairy spider. She immediately burst into uncontrollable laughter while the colour drained from Booth's face.

"Is this your way of showing me how manly you are Booth." She asked whilst stifling chokes of laughter.

"This has nothing to do with being manly Bones. That thing is huge, it bites and its probably poisonous."

"Booth, it's a common house spider." Brennan laughed as she stood up and quietly approached the spider. Booth looked on in horror as Brennan leaned over and scooped the spider, whose legs spanned around 1.5 inches, into her cupped hand. Lifting her hand level with her face she smiled at the spider warmly.

"Bones, don't make it a pet, kill it!" he practically yelled.

"I'm not going to kill an innocent creature Booth. He's just getting out of the damp, you can hardly blame him." She explained as she walked over to the front door. "I'll put him back outside and then you can climb down from that couch like a good little girl." Booth glared after her as she disappeared out the door, her laughter still fully audible to him.

Booth remained on the couch until Brennan had closed the front door again, securing the spider outside of his home. Only then did he lower his legs and sit down.

"Is it gone?" he asked.

"It's gone." Brennan smiled as she rejoined him on the couch. "Now you can go back to proving how manly you are." She teased.

"Something tells me that tales of keg parties, pranks and conquests won't convince you of anything right now." Booth nodded.

"You don't have to be manly, or a man for that matter, to do a keg stand or pull a few pranks Booth." Brennan replied innocently.

"Bones, are you trying to say you got up to no good in college?" Booth asked curiously. He shifted positions to face her a little, watching as a smile tugged at her lips.

"I did have what you could describe as 'normal college experiences' in my freshman year." Brennan admitted almost shyly.

"Wait, is that when you ran naked down the hall with..." he trailed off and gazed across the room to the front door.

"Booth?"

"Streaking stories later Bones, that little bastard got back inside." Booth pointed to the door where the spider Brennan had set outside just minutes ago was sitting contently on the hardwood floor. "He's mocking me." Booth pouted.

"Booth, you're a grown man. It's just a little spider – he's more afraid of you than you are of him."

"I don't believe that for a second." Booth shook his head. "Now will you please kill it. I will not be able to sleep knowing its in this house."

"I told you Booth, I'm not killing it. But I will take it all the way to the end of the drive this time."

By the time Brennan returned, Booth had composed himself fully and was comfortably relaxed on the couch – his mind already back on Brennan's hints at streaking and college experiences. When she returned he watched her almost sashay across the room, the deep green material of her dress swishing from side to side. His eyes followed her intently as she settled back on the couch beside him. For the first time since she arrived he noticed how her hair was pulled back so neatly and her eyes were smoky with make-up. She looked more like she was dressed for dinner than a day at the office. Still, he was far from complaining. After staring at suit clad, frizzy haired female FBI agents who assumed a stereotypically male job meant they had to look masculine too, he was glad of a purely feminine presence.

"So Bones. These college experiences of yours – they did include a naked run down a packed hallway right?" Brennan stared at the coffee table then turned to Booth.

"I'll tell you about that..." she leaned over and picked up the magazine she had spotted. "If you tell me what you are doing with _this_ magazine in your _manly_ house." She grinned and held up the latest edition of "Good Housekeeping" while Booth slid down the couch with a hand covering his eyes in embarassement, realising it was going to take a whole lot of energy convincing Brennan he was most definately 'A Man'.

**_Thanks for reading the latest Sunflower Lily Productions creation - it was a blast to write_**


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